


almost

by tteas



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Post-Nuclear War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, good times my dude, i take a hammer and smash the angst up even more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tteas/pseuds/tteas
Summary: in the wake of the war and the crumbling world it left behind, Nora takes up her beloved's name, and survives.(someone's got to remember Nate. If she dies doing so, then so be it.)





	almost

 

it was a love so strong i thought i would die for it. i almost did. 

                    almost. what a word to crack in your mouth after surviving.

 

 

 -  _almost tastes like almonds,_ inkskinned

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

 

“I wonder what kind of person they’ll grow up to be,” Nate starts, laying on the couch and staring at the book in his hands, “They could be a teacher, a policeman, _hell_ , maybe even a soldier like me one day.”

 

Nora's mouth quirks as she took a sip out of her mug. What a surprise, seeing her husband like this, brows furrowing in concentration as he flips the pages of that self-help book, golden ‘You’re special’ letters printed on it’s fine cover. With the evening sun pouring behind him, he looks just like one of those glorified scholars she always see on the commercials and it makes a hilarious image.

 

“What do you think they’ll be?” Nora asks, mostly out of amusement. Nate tends to overthink too much - not in a bad way, she suppose, but he speculates; comes up with the weirdest ideas that she is very much used to. She puts her own book down onto her lap and sits up, eyes resting on him and so, so interested in what concepts he can cook up this time.

 

But Nate just rolls over to face her, blinking slowly as if the question is an university level maths equation.

 

“Me? I don’t even know what I’m gonna have for breakfast tomorrow. But in 8 months?” He goes quiet at where he is, closing the book. The sun is setting even lower now, bathing the house in a warm, golden glow. She feels the gears in his mind working, sees the way he bounces his legs. How he quirks the side of his lips and chews slightly, something that he always does in an attempt to clear his mind.

 

 _He's nervous_ , Nora realizes. Hell, she is too, ever since the discovery three weeks ago. The idea that they are both gonna be _parents_ is… surprising. _Overwhelming_.

 

Nora still isn't sure if she's ready yet, even from all those baby-help books she find from the library. And on the internet.

 

“I guess I’ll be...  a dad.” Nate finally breathes out, as if the idea is suddenly hitting him. She wonder if it’s a good idea. Nate is a soldier and he frequents away from home to the frontlines and then there’s her - holding her own degree in Law. Finding a job would be her best interest in the future. Nora wonders if they'll be good parents.

 

(she knows, however, that Nate will make a great dad. He is kind, and has the softest smile she has ever known. How he treats children with practiced ease and comfort.)

 

Hell, every kid in sanctuary loves him- ah, except for the Winton’s brat, but he hates everyone.

 

Close enough.

 

“You'll be the dad,” she says, and winks at him, half in mockery and all in good humor, “and I'll be the better looking parent who they adore and look u-” Nate rolls off the couch and he reaches her in 3 strides and half a crawl, fingers tickling and she squeals, both of them bursting into laughter while she bat his arms away.

 

(but still, Nora thinks as he picks her up to twirl her around, the both of them grinning widely and glowing, she wonders if the baby will be a girl, or a boy.)

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

Their son is born in a small hospital just half an hour away in Concord, quiet except for the occasional wails he produces surprisingly. One of the nurses wraps him in a towel and helps to steady her arms under him, sweat stained from the labour as Nora gently, so gently, carries the newborn and _really_ look at him.

 

“Here comes the father!” Their nurse smiles, and Nate is stumbling into the room and right to her side, eyes wide as he takes in the sight of his son, _their son_. He turns to her moments later, flashing her a quiet, sun-filled smile so warm it hurts.

 

“You’ve done it.” He whispers, as to not startle the baby. “I… I’m really a dad.”

 

Despite being exhausted, Nora's lips quirk up and she huff out a laugh. “Hon, we’re parents now. _Parents_ .” Nate looks at her one more time, smile softening into something so _full_ of love. He laces his fingers with hers, and dips down to greet the snoozing baby and pressing a kiss to his temple. She couldn’t help but giggle at the pink, wrinkled face scrunching up cutely. Their son twitches his nose.

 

(something warm pools in her chest and Nora realised that she had already fallen in love.)

 

Nate gives her a kiss of his own to her forehead, then resting his own against hers, soft breathing synchronising with her. His hand rests on her own, the weight of her wedding ring a comfort on her skin.

 

“Shaun,” he says, “His name is Shaun.”

 

Nora returns his grin. Shaun it is, then.

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

Shaun is six months old when he says his first words.

 

Nate’s surprised shout from the living room has Nora shooting up from the bed where she was on, book forgotten as she stumbles to where Shaun and Nate are. She skids to a stop just behind the couch, chest tight with panic and expecting to see Shaun injured in some sort of way.

 

“What? What is it?” Nate has an excited smile painted onto his face and she instinctively follows his sight to Shaun, who’s sitting up and idly waving some drool-covered pipboy plushie that Nate has whisked out from nowhere because she definitely doesn’t remember buying it. Otherwise, Shaun is uninjured.

 

So Nora looks at Nate and raises her eyebrows at his grin. And her husband smiles brightly, waving a free hand at their son:

 

“He talked!”

 

Her body slumps over the couch.

 

(it’s the fifth time this month and Nora’s pretty sure Shaun babbles all the time, so surely it’s just the same baby gibberish this time, right?)

 

“Nate, Shaun is less than a year old.”

 

“Pshhh. Just because those books you read says that babies don’t talk until they are three means it happens all the time. Shaun, look, Mommy’s here!” Nate huffed a laugh, and leans in closer to pepper kisses all over Shaun’s chubby cheeks. He’s been spending all his time with Shaun after he’s finally retired from the army, just like he promised. It’s for the best, and the income he has saved up is enough for them to last comfortably for quite a while. If not, she’s planning to start finding a job anyway.

 

Back to the point, Nora lets a sigh loose just as a warm mug was wordlessly pressed into her hands. “Thanks, Codsworth.”

 

“Not a problem, Ma’am!” Codsworth cheerfully says.

 

(Codsworth’s a wonderful helper, butler, and a mean coffee maker all in one robot package and she couldn’t be more thankful for his help. Nate teases her ever since the both of them welcomed the robot into their home, but she’s pretty sure that the man is just jealous of his coffee making skills.

 

Typical Nate.)

 

She doesn’t get her chance to take a sip, because Shaun looks up when Nate calls his name, looks at where he is pointing at Nora with her mug, and his expression instantly morphs into absolute delight and glee, as if the sun itself has lit up his chubby face, and he starts shaking the pipboy plush in her direction.

 

“Ma.”

 

That grabbed her attention, and her eyes are widening as her hand lowers the mug, because surely that just Shaun babbling-

 

“Ma ma.” Shaun says, really says, more firmly than before. Nate gasps. “M-maa... Ma. Ma ma!” And Shaun waves the poor plush harder, wiggling his tiny legs about as he reaches for her, determined and as if he wants her to go to him _right now_. Nate whoops loudly even as he pulls his son back to place on his lap, arms steadying to prevent the squirming toddler from falling.

 

He doesn’t need to, though. Nora scrambles forward immediately, mug pushed back into Codsworth’s claws and then she is scooping Shaun up from Nate’s lap, pressing a kiss into his forehead as Shaun squeals and giggles. Nate’s laughter is not far behind as he joins the both of them in a hug.

 

This, Nora thinks, this is okay. Codsworth hovered over to join them, his own chuckles filling up the house, sunlight streaming through the window behind them. She loves them all so, so much: her husband, her son, and Codsworth. Her family.

 

(she wonders how she’s so lucky.)

 

It’s more than okay, Nora decides, and she’s smiling so much that her cheeks start to ache.

 

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

 

She can still taste their anniversary cake when the bombs fell.

 

Three days after waking up in the Vault, Nora softly brushes the dust off the crib in the ruins of her house, and she laughs, and laughs, until her laughter becomes broken sobs and her palm bleeds from digging her nails in too hard.

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

 

Other than the giant roaches and human remains, the first time she actually had to fire a gun was unforgettable. The recoil had stunned her, leaving a deep soreness in her shoulder and all the bullet did was to miss her target completely before bouncing off the walls. It barely missed her ear. Since then, Nora had kept the pistol away, safely tucked into the stash she picked up somewhere and relying on her fists instead.

 

(at times like this, she couldn’t had been more grateful to her mother, who had signed her up on those self-defense classes all those years ago. She just didn’t think they’ll be handy in an apocalypse.)

 

(...much less against mutant bugs.)

 

But human limbs can only last her for a short time. She needs to find a better weapon, something much more sturdier and hits much harder than the average human fist, something like a knife or a pipe. So Nora searches through the houses in Sanctuary, all reduced to merely wooden frames and on the verge of collapsing, murmuring an apology for each house she ransacks through.

 

It isn’t until the third house when she finds something that she could actually use.

 

“Oh, god.” Nora breathes out. Once upon a time the Winston family lived here, and now all that’s left was a broken, empty wreck, a reminder of what the war did to the world. She takes in the dust filled, dirty floor, the tattered halloween decorations-

 

(-Nate was looking so forward to that, eyes sparkling as he picks out various onesies for Shaun, and look at her now-)

 

-and Nora bows her head, mouthing a sorry before searching out the place like what she did to the first two.

 

There is mostly nothing in the living room, or what’s left of it anyway. The bathroom is empty too, and without wasting anymore time Nora heads straight for the bedrooms, one for the couple on the right and one for the kids on the left. She decides on the kids’ room first, because _why not?_ Maybe she’ll find something useful.

 

What she didn’t expect was to find a full, untouched set of a hunting bow and it’s arrows.

 

Holy shit, her brain supplies. She checked underneath the mattress and, lo and behold, she is now clutching the bow in her trembling fingers. Nora takes a full minute to process her situation, and of course now she remembers that the Winston’s eldest daughter was the captain of her archery team in University. Sofia was a sweet, sweet girl, taking much after her mother, and she had loved the cookies Nora used to bake, always lighting up whenever she had shared with them.

 

(once, she had attempted to bake on her own, but it ended with her kitchen on fire and Sofia smiling sheepishly, as the both of them watch her dad hose the stove down.)

 

Nora let herself reminisce a little more longer, absentmindedly stroking the curved wood, the house quiet except for her own breathing, and slings the quiver across her shoulders as she steps out of the room.

 

The rest of the house has nothing else. At the end of the day, Nora gathers a pair of scissors, some tape, a can of pork n’ beans, one bottle of Nuka Cola and a pipe from the rest of the area, and departs for Concord.

 

(she cuts her hair and watches them fall and fall, bunches and bunches of broken brown pooling onto the ground. When she’s finally done - nothing much left for the wind to kiss and play anymore, and so, _so short_ , a far cry from before-  she steps over them, and does not look back.)

 

 

 

 

 

△

 

 

 

 

 

“Man, I don’t know who you are, but your timing’s impeccable. You really saved us out there.”

 

The man sweeps his hat off in a sign of gratefulness and respect. He’s tall, at least a head taller than her, shoulders broad but a little on the lean side for someone of his build. She wonders if he has been eating well, because she doesn't think she could after killing all those… what was it? Ah, Raiders. They’re raiders, who were all determined to harm the small group, until she came along. It was all but a blur of adrenaline rush, and she had broken her scissors, too.

 

_(“When your opponent is stronger and taller than you, it’s best for you to attack them from behind,” Dad had said, flipping through the newspaper. “Then, it’s down to either a choke hold, or a chance to escape. If you had a knife, even better.’” he snorted, quirking a smile back at her. “But I don’t think you’ll need to do that anytime soon.”)_

 

He extends his hand out, friendly grin on his lips. “Preston Garvey, Commonweath Minutemen.”

 

She takes his hand and opens her mouth to introduce herself, to say-

 

 _(-Kim Honora Grey, but everyone calls me Nora_.)

 

-something. Anything. But her words sticks at the back of her throat, because offering your name to a stranger you just met wasn’t exactly a good choice, and that she momentarily forgets how to say it, to say Nora, dammit. Is she really Nora? Nora is the one with a law degree and the mother of a son, not this woman who just woke up to ruins after the bombs fell, watch her son gets taken away, and her husband-

 

(“-hello,” He smiles, dressed in a simple shirt and jeans as he offers his hand to her, eyes crinkled up with his grin. “You’re Nora, right? It’s so nice to meet you. My name is-”)

 

“Nate,” she says, giving his hand a firm shake. “My name is Nate.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> truth to be told this was very unpolished but i figured i should post this rather than letting it sit in my folders forever. Maybe i'll update if inspirations strikes, but for now enjoy this quick snippet


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